Greetings to all my new readers who’ve stopped by during this first week.
Amongst them is Ben – whose great collection of 50 word short stories at his site Just Punch the Clock inspired me to try a shorter format today and allow myself only 250 words to tell a story. A ‘random creative word generator’ provided the topic – that of a kite.
It’s a melancholy little tale but that’s just the way it is sometimes I guess.
You know how it is right? We all have them. Those messages we have been meaning to send for ages to distant friends.
But life gets in the way. Your job, your significant other, the people you are less close to emotionally but just happen to be nearer to geographically. Hobbies. Tiredness. Boredom. All siphoning away precious, precious time.
I’ve told myself since it’s not my fault for the reasons above. I’m evenly distributing my guilt amongst all of you who are just as lazy and distracted as me. A different kind of siphon.
The email starts cheery enough. Deceptively so. I feel relief at first. Tim has just skipped over my lack of a reply to his last message and sent me another.
But the veneer of joviality sags away like rotten wood under the barest of pressure. Sarah’s finally gone Tim tells me. She’s taken the kids. He’s going to kill himself he says.
I’m up in an instant. Keys, shoes, coat, wallet, car.
Tim isn’t home.
Across from his house is a park and there bobbing in the wind a red kite.
It’s Tim’s children’s kite. I don’t know how I know this but I do.
I find the end of its line secured into the ground with tent pegs. My gaze drifts up to the tree where the same wind swings Tim back and forth.